Mister Weasley
by LWJ2
Summary: Ron pushes things a step too far. There are serious consequences, during which the covers of Dr. Granger, Fred & George are blown. Arthur reveals a side not generally seen. Mildly AU, non-canon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **The Harry Potter characters are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is not written for financial recompense.**  
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**"Mister Weasley ..."**

Ron Weasley awoke with a shock. A very cold shock, he was dripping wet, couldn't move, and there was something across his mouth. When he turned his head, he saw a man dressed muggle clothing facing away from him. The fact that he was naked slowly penetrated his mind.

When the muggle turned to face him, Ron recognised Hermione's father. He didn't appear to be a happy man, in fact, he appeared to be quite angry.

"Mister Weasley." The two words were drawn out, almost hissed.

Ron nodded, unable to do anything else to acknowledge being addressed.

"I suppose you are wondering why you are here," he continued. "It's very simple."

"I came home early yesterday," Daniel Granger stated. "To discover my daughter crying. Again. Because of you."

"I don't like you, Mister Weasley. I never have. I was delighted when Hermione broke up with you. I thought it was finished betwixt you."

"You, on the other hand, do not appear to be capable of understanding this."

"You have made her cry for the penultimate time, Mister Weasley. As you're a wizard and likely too stupid to understand that, it means 'next to last' Mister Weasley. The next time will be the last."

Granger walked behind Ron, grabbed him by his hair. Ron felt a sharp point being dragged slowly across his neck, then he was released. Granger stepped in front of Ron, holding a black knife in one hand.

"This, Mister Weasley, is a Fairbairn knife. The next time you feel it, it will be cutting your throat."

Granger walked over to a low table and picked up a pair of scissors. He proceeded to cut off Ron's hair, leaving a bit of stubble. Ron watched as he placed the hair in a clear bag and put it on the table with the scissors.

"There is no place you can go that I can not find you, Mister Weasley," Daniel Granger said softly. "Nowhere."

Granger picked up Ron's wand, then cut two long shavings from it. "Every time you hold your wand, you'll have a reminder of this conversation, Mister Weasley. Pay heed to it." He proceeded to tape Ron's wand to his chest, then taped a coin below it, leaving the centre portion visible.

"You'll have one other thing to recall this conversation, Mister Weasley." Granger tapped the half-penny with the tip of his knife. "Gringotts," he whispered.

It was a bright, sunny Friday afternoon, clear and quite cold, when Ronald Weasley appeared in front of Gringotts, stark naked, chained to a chair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. This story was not written for financial recompense.

**Author's Note: **Some editing was done as well as (sigh) correction of the inevitable typos discovered after posting. LWJ2 — 09 Dec 2011

**"Mister Weasley..."  
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_Chapter Two: Arthur's Wrath_

"Mummy," the child's voice was dead clear, "that man doesn't have his clothes on." Heads turned. Ron sat mute, eyes bulging. He tried to bring his knees together, discovering his legs were chained separately and very thoroughly.

Two goblin guards appeared, picked up the chair and Ron, then moved him away from Gringotts main entrance, setting him onto the thoroughfare. "Bloody wizards, always causing trouble," one of them muttered. The second examined the chains securing Ron to the chair. "Good work there," he said. "Take a smith to get those off." They went back to their post at the entrance.

George and Fred arrived shortly after that, excusing themselves as they made their way through the crowd.

"Fred," George said, "we can't have ickle Ronniekins here like this."

"Right," said Fred. "This'll do the trick." He cast an obfuscation spell, concealing Ron's groin.

"That's it?" asked George. "That's all you're going to do? I'm ashamed of you, Fred." George waved his wand, causing a sign to appear over Ron's head. "There, that's how you should have done it."

Fred looked at George's handiwork, then bowed. "I'm sorry, George. I wasn't thinking."

"Too right you weren't. This isn't a joke, we don't want folk to think we aren't responsible citizens."

Ron's eyes almost burst from their sockets when George produced a camera and snapped several photos whilst the crowd roared with laughter when they saw the sign: _Ickle Ronniekins' ickle bits concealed by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes for the public good_. Fred and George sauntered back to the shop, leaving their youngest brother on display.

"Should we Floo Mum?" Fred asked.

"Nahh. Someone else will, anyhow. Why waste Floo powder?"

"I wonder who else he's brassed off, it wasn't us that did it," George commented.

"Wasn't Bill, either. He'd have been somewhere else. Charlie's off chasing dragons. Dad wouldn't have done that, he'd have talked to him. Again."

"That leaves Ginny or Mum."

"Ginny."

"Or Harry. He's fed up with Ron."

The bells over the shop door tinkled as an irate Auror entered. "Oi. You lot."

"What can we do for the DMLE, o mighty Auror?" Fred sneered.

"You can't leave 'im like that, on the roadway."

"We didn't. The goblins put him there, he was blocking the entry to Gringotts. We just put up the sign and hid his bits. Doing our bit for the public, don't you know."

"There's a crowd," the Auror stated.

"So?" George sneered. "Isn't our problem."

"E's your brother."

"Last I looked," Fred stated, "it wasn't a chargeable offence to be related to a moron. Otherwise most of DMLE's relatives would be in Azkaban. Along with most of the Ministry's relatives."

"You can't talk to me like that, I'm an Auror."

Fred sighed, then went to the Floo. Tossing in a bit of Floo powder, he said "Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Shacklebolt's head appeared in the flames. "Are you two in the lockup again, Fred?"

"No, Shack. We've got one of your morons here. You want to speak to him?"

"Yes. I'm coming through." Fred stepped back as Shacklebolt entered the shop. "What's going on here, Fred?"

"Their brother is making a spectacle of hisself, sir. 'An they won't do aught about it. 'E's naked, in front of Gringotts. In the roadway. There's a crowd."

Shacklebolt sighed. "Did you two do this?" he asked the twins.

"All we did was help preserve public decency," George stated.

"And a bit of advert work," Fred added.

"Let's go see this spectacle," Kinglsey said as he headed toward the door. When he arrived at the edge of the crowd, he pushed his way through. "Move it, head along," he told them. When he saw Ron, Shacklebolt snickered, then gave way to open laughter.

Ron's complexion was heading to imperial purple by now.

"Lookit, sir," said the Auror, "someone's tried to cut 'is throat." He pointed to the thin line around Ron's neck, now scabbed over.

Shacklebolt peered at Ron's neck. "I don't think so, Auror. Otherwise, he'd have been dead. I believe someone's sent a message." Shacklebolt sighed, then pulled out a handkerchief. "_Portus_," he intoned, then slid the handkerchief between Ron's right arm and his chest, with the ends protruding. "Grab on, Auror. We'll move him."

When the Auror took hold of the other end of the handkerchief, Shacklebolt said "Arthur Weasley." He, the Auror and Ron disappeared.

Arthur Weasley looked up from his desk, surprised to see the Director of DMLE, an Auror and his youngest son appear in his office. He wasn't surprised at Ron's lack of clothing. He raised an eyebrow at Shacklebolt.

Just then, Arthur's fireplace turned bright green. "_Arthur_," came the voice of his irate wife, "_do you know what your sons have done now_?"

Arthur walked to the fireplace. "I believe I'm about to discover that, dear," he said mildly. "Would you like to come through?"

Molly stepped into Arthur's office, took one look at Ron and started to shout. "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?"

"M'dear," Arthur observed, "he could hardly have shackled himself to that chair. And he can't answer you just now." Arthur quirked an eyebrow at Shacklebolt and nodded at Ron. "Kingsley ... that ... is it tape? If you would ..."

Shacklebolt nodded. "Hold his head," he directed the Auror. "Tightly," he added. "Ron, this is probably going to hurt. Don't move." He worked a fingernail under an edge of the tape covering Ron's mouth, fiddled a bit, then ripped it off.

"AAHHHH," Ron shouted. "Bloody hell, that hurts."

Shacklebolt was examining the piece of tape he'd pulled from Ron's mouth. "Interesting, it's muggle tape," he observed. "Well, let's get on with it," he said, then ripped off the tape holding Ron's wand, then the tape holding the half penny.

"My, my," Shacklebolt said as he examined Ron's wand. He pointed his wand at Ron's and intoned "_Priori Incantatem_."

"Hmm. _Finite, Petrificus, _two _Stupefys_. Then several shaving charms. Did you cut your wand, Ronald?"

Ron shook his head, _no_. Shacklebolt looked at the half-penny, re-wrapped the tape around it and pocketed it. He stepped behind the chair to which Ron was chained and examined the chains.

"Arthur, would you look at this, I think it's something with which you're familiar."

Arthur's eyebrows rose. "Those are welded," he told Shacklebolt. "It's a muggle way of joining metal. They'll have to be cut apart."

Meanwhile, Molly was fuming. She waved her wand at the sign still hovering above Ron's head. "_Finite incantatem_." The sign remained. Molly's face went the colour of her hair, she stepped over to Arthur's fireplace. "Fred, George," she shouted.

George's head appeared in the flames. "Yes, Mum?"

"You two get over here to your father's office, right now!"

"Yes, Mum. Be a bit, we've got to close the shop first." He turned his head. "Fred, close up, we're wanted at the Ministry for consultation."

They stepped through the Floo into their father's office a minute later. "Sorry, had to make up a sign," Fred told his mother.

Molly's humour was re-asserting itself. "Like the one you made for your brother?" she asked.

"Yes, Mum. _Called to the Ministry for Urgent Consultation_. No point in not getting some advert out of it."

Arthur sighed. "Just fix what you did to your brother, boys."

"All we did was the sign and..." George started.

"Just. Fix. It." Arthur said flatly.

Fred and George flashed their hands. "Dammit," Fred muttered. "I knew I should have gone with paper."

"If you wouldn't mind turning your backs, please," George said. "Proprietary spell," he added, "Ronniekins, close your eyes, you can't afford the royalties on it."

"_Silencio_. _Petrificus Totalis_," intoned Fred. He pointed his wand at Ron's groin. "_Finite __Incantatem Ronaldus_." He turned to George. "I should have used 'Ronaldum'. I mean, look at it."

"You're right. Glad you admit it." George pointed his wand at the glowing sign. "_In hoc signo vinces. Finite Jackass._"

Ron's eyes were bulging again, the colour of his face was back to imperial purple.

"Can't be good for him," Fred commented.

"We can only have faith," George replied.

"Haskins. Back to your beat. Bring your report directly to me, tomorrow will do. No, that's Saturday. Monday then," said Kingsley.

"Sir. 'M off Monday. Workin' th' weekend."

"Your next weekday duty day, then, Auror. It's not urgent."

"Sir." Haskins apparated away.

Arthur faced the crowd in his office. He had gone pale, very pale. "Director Shacklebolt. Molly." Arthur's words came slowly, each syllable almost bitten off. "George. Frederick." Arthur's lips were a slash across his face by now. Shacklebolt had seen Arthur like this only once, at the Battle of Hogwarts, when he saw a Death Eater fire a curse at Ginny. Fortunately it missed. Arthur had cut him in half. For the rest of the battle Arthur had fought coldly, methodically and lethally. "Please accept my apology for your presence in my office this day. The reason for it will not occur again. House Weasley is shamed."

"Molly. Go home. We will discuss this later, in private. George. Fred. Remain here."

Molly nodded. "Floo me before you leave, Arthur. I'll have something waiting for you." She stepped to the fireplace, tossed in a handful of Floo powder and called out "The Burrow."

Arthur looked at Ron. "You will speak when spoken to, Ronald Bilius. Otherwise, your mouth will remain shut. _Finite Incantatem_."

"Dad, I ..."

Arthur delivered an open-handed slap across Ron's cheek, then followed it with a vicious backhand on the other cheek.

"Silence." Arthur's voice was low-pitched and flat. "You will address me as Lord Weasley until I tell you otherwise, Ronald."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. This story was not written for financial recompense.

**"Mister Weasley..."  
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_Chapter Three: Questions, Answers_

"_Diffindo_."

The chain holding Ron to the chair glowed yellow. It remained unbroken. Shacklebolt's eyebrows rose in surprise. He kept his wand against the same spot in the link he'd attempted to cut. "_Diffindo_," he intoned again. The chain glowed yellow once more.

"Bugger, Arthur. It's warded."

"Boys, take a look at it, see if you can break it," Arthur directed.

Fred and George peered at the link. "Hit it again, Shack."

"_Diffindo_."

"We've seen that before, Forge."

"Once more, Shack."

"_Diffindo_."

"Sod it." Fred and George looked at their father, then each other. Hands flashed again. "Bugger," George said.

"We can't do it, Dad," George said.

"Can't or won't, George?" said Arthur quietly.

"Both, Dad. We can't talk about it either."

"Won't?" Arthur asked.

"Can't Dad. Can't talk."

Arthur thought about that for a minute. George and Fred were capable of astounding feats of magic. He knew they could qualify for a Masters in Potions and, likely, Charms. He also knew that they wouldn't lie to him about something important.

"Ronald, I do not know who you have angered this time, but it would appear they've lost any patience they ever had with you." Ron nodded in agreement.

George and Fred handed Kingsley a ten-galleon coin each. Kingsley nodded, smiling in quiet satisfaction as he pocketed them.

"Dad."

Arthur looked at Fred and raised an eyebrow.

"Dad, look at that coin Kingsley has. That's all we can suggest. Sir." Fred and George were somewhat pale.

George started to speak. "Dad, remember, we only told you to check that coin. Nothing else was said. Sir."

Both Arthur and Shacklebolt raised their eyebrows at that. Shacklebolt drew the coin from his pocket, unwrapping it, then cast a tracing charm upon it.

"Shit," Kingsley said quietly when the maker of the portkey was revealed. Arthur nodded. Kingsley turned to Ron. "Ronald, you've pissed off the wrong people this time."

"Boys, you can go now," Arthur stated. "Shack and I will take it from here."

"We have to stay, sir," Fred answered. "Otherwise ..." his voice trailed off.

"We'll be in trouble, sir, real trouble," George finished.

Arthur nodded. "All right." He turned to Ron. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, you are forbidden to speak, write or otherwise communicate anything you see, hear, know or surmise about the situation you have created to any person not in this room."

Ron nodded.

"Speak your answer," Arthur told him.

"I understand, D... Lord Weasley."

"You will obey me, Ronald. Say it."

"I ... I ... I understand and will obey you, Lord Weasley."

"We'll be back, boys," Arthur told the twins as he and Shacklebolt headed toward his office door. "Floo your mother, tell her that I don't know when I'll be home and that she is not to worry. Nothing more."

"Yessir," the twins said in unison.

"Don't curse him, don't kill him," Arthur added.

"Yessir."

After the door closed on Arthur and Kingsley, the twins turned to their hapless brother. Fred nodded at George.

"You moron," George said. "You've no idea, none at all, of who you've brassed off. Whoever you _think_ it is, you're wrong. You'd better pray to someone that they don't kill you. Because that would really upset Mum. If they do, we'll bring you back. Then you'll find out what Hell really is." Fred nodded in agreement. Both the twins looked murderous.

"I'll Floo Mum," Fred said.

Fred went to the fireplace and called Molly. "Mum, Dad told me to call and say he doesn't know when he'll be home, you're not to worry."

Molly sighed. "He's still upset isn't he, Frederick?"

"Remember how mad he was with Percy, Mum?"

Molly shuddered. In the privacy of their bedroom, Arthur had been a raging madman.

"Mum ... he's ... I've never seen him like this," Fred finished. "He's ... quiet." When pushed too far, Arthur had a tongue that could peel the hide from a dragon at a half-mile. He'd peeled the hides off Fred and George several times.

Molly sighed. "Tell your father I love him and that I'll have something for him when he comes home."

* * *

><p>Kingsley and Arthur stopped in front of the door. "I'd better do the talking, Arthur," he said.<p>

Arthur Weasley shook his head. "No, Shack. I'll do it."

Arthur walked over to the receptionist's desk. "Mr. Croaker, please. I'm Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt is with me."

The receptionist nodded. "He's expecting you, Mr. Weasley. Do you know the way?"

Arthur smiled at her. "Yes, I do, thank you, young lady."

"Arthur. It's been a while." Algernon Croaker carefully covered the folder he was reading, then secured it in a drawer. "Your office, or Kingsley's?"

"Mine, Algernon."

Croaker nodded toward a shadowed corner of his office. "Major? I don't believe you've met these gentlemen?"

The figure that emerged from the shadows was wearing a balaclava, the DPM of the British armed forces and the flash of Her Majesty's Royal Marines. He nodded toward the door.

"It's secure, Major," Croaker replied to the un-asked question.

"Hello, Arthur, Kingsley," Daniel Granger said after removing his balaclava. "Sorry about the circumstances."

"Oh, bugger," Shacklebolt said softly to himself.

Arthur Weasley was ashen. After a few moments, he collected himself and bowed to Daniel Granger. "House Weasley extends it's sincere apologies to House Granger, Major, and the assurance that this will not happen again."

Granger nodded. "Arthur, I accept your apology. I bear no ill-will toward you and your house. Your son Ronald is aware of what will occur if it happens again. It will be the last time."

Arthur nodded. "Does Hermione want an ... another, I guess ... apology?"

"She'd probably prefer it coming from you, Arthur."

"Yes. Certainly."

The silence grew awkward. Croaker finally broke it. "Arthur. Kingsley. The Major's presence is covered by the Official Secrets Act."

Both men nodded. Arthur looked at Croaker. "Algernon. The twins are in my office. They insisted on staying. I believe I understand why now. They've said nothing, on my word."

"They're consultants, Arthur. On occasion, they supply ... goods."

"Let's get this done, gentlemen," Croaker said.

* * *

><p>Fred and George saw the door to the office open, when their father stepped through followed by Croaker, Kingsley and Major Granger — who had donned his balaclava for the walk through the Ministry's corridors — they turned pale and stood in front of the desk.<p>

"Sir?" The twins spoke simultaneously.

"It's all right," Croaker replied. The twins sagged in relief. "Your discretion is admirable."

"Major?" Fred asked. "We're all right with you and your people?"

Granger nodded, then pointed to Ron, made a writing motion.

"Dad?" George said. "We don't have a copy at the shop. Do you?"

"Yes." Arthur walked to his desk, opened a drawer and removed a folder. He spread three copies across the front of his desk, then moved to face Ron. "Ronald Bilius Weasley. When you are freed, you will sign the documents on my desk. Once you do that, you will make an oath on your magic not to willingly betray anything you know, or may come to know, that is covered by the Official Secrets Act, the identities of anyone present in this office or their connections with each other. Fail in this and you will forfeit your magic and be imprisoned for treason against the Crown for the rest of your life. Do you understand this, Ronald?"

"I understand and will obey, Lord Weasley."

"Algernon?" Arthur asked. "Will you do the ... honours?"

Three minutes later the final length of chain holding Ron to the chair clattered to the floor. Silently, Arthur pointed to his desk. Ron signed the three copies of the Official Secrets Act. Kingsley handed him his wand.

"I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, swear that I will not willingly betray anything I know or may come to know covered by the Official Secrets Act or the identities and connections of anyone now present. Should I fail in this my magic will be forfeit and I will be imprisoned for the rest of my life. So I swear and mote it be."

Daniel Granger tossed a bundle of clothes at Ron's feet, removed his balaclava and moved to stand in front of him. When Ron realised who the Royal Marine was, he paled.

"Remember what I told you, Mister Weasley. My word as an officer of Her Majesty's Royal Marines."

"Ronald. You may speak to perform your job, transact business and take care of the necessities of life. Within the family, you will speak only when spoken to until I tell you otherwise. You may address me as Dad. You are forbidden any form of alcohol. Go to your flat, figure out how to apologise to your mother. Remember, you may not discuss what has occurred other than to admit you have humiliated Hermione. How, is your problem."

As Ron finished dressing, the twins confronted him. "Break that oath and you'd best hope you die in prison before we get to you, brother dear," George told him.

"Because we will," Fred added. "You won't like it."

Ron nodded. It was nothing he'd not expected. He took a handful of Floo powder, called "Ron's Place" and stepped into the fireplace. He'd turned his life upside-down. Now he was going to have to figure out what to do with it.

To be continued - LWJ2


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. This story was not written for financial recompense.

"**Mister Weasley …"**

_Chapter Four: Ron Does Some Thinking_

Ron stumbled as he stepped from the Floo into his flat, landing flat of his belly. _Shite,_ he thought as he lay there, _Harry doesn't even fall on his face any more._ He rose wearily from the floor and headed toward the kitchen.

Ron quickly fried some bacon and scrambled a half-dozen eggs, then sat at his kitchen table, eating without paying any attention to the food. _Christ, what do I do now?_ He looked at the now empty plate. _Hell, I can't even cook, really._ He went to the sink, added water to the kettle and set it to boil.

_Hermione was right,_ he thought. _Tea does taste better if the water is boiled._ He laughed to himself. _Hermione is generally right. You're an idiot, Weasley. _Ron started to clean the dirty dishes and pans magically, then stopped, filled the sink from the tap and began to wash them by hand. _I'll have to get one of those dish-thingies. Christ, I can't even do that, I'd have to ask Hermione where to buy one._ He put a couple of towels on the kitchen table and laid the wet dishes on them, drying them by hand when he finished.

Ron sat at the table, sipping his tea. _Well, there's at least one thing I can take care of._ He went to his desk, took out a sheet of parchment and stared at it. After a few minutes, he began to write.

_Miss Hermione J. Granger_

_Weybridge, Sussex, UK_

_Ma'am:_

_I offer my apology for my conduct toward you in the past. _

_It won't occur again._

_R.B. Weasley_

Ron folded the letter, sealed it and sighed. _That's done. I'll take it to that Algernon guy and ask him to give it to Mr. … Major Granger. Shite. I don't even know who he really is. I doubt I could get through his door. If I could find it. Shite. I'll see Dad in the morning and ask him to deliver it, if I went to George or Fred … _Ron's mind shied away from the thought of what the twins would do to him.

He sighed again, then went to his kitchen. He set the kettle to boil again, rummaged in the pantry, found a box and began gathering bottles of butterbeer, placing them in the box. He carried the box into the dining room and went to the sideboard, removing several bottles of firewhisky. Those, too were placed carefully in the box.

Ron went to his desk and took out another piece of parchment.

_Fred, George –_

_I've got a box of butterbeer and booze for you. I can drop it off at WWW or you can pick it up at my flat. Send a note back with Pig as to which you prefer._

_Ron_

"Here, Pig," he told his hyperactive owl. "Take this to Fred or George and wait for a reply." Pig hooted, then flew out the window. _At least Pig's not brassed with me. Probably says something about how bright he is. _The whistling of the kettle penetrated Ron's consciousness. _Oh, yeah. Tea. _

Ron took down his teapot and made a pot of tea. _I guess I'd better figure out what else to drink besides tea and water. _Sipping at his second cup, he realized that he didn't care for the taste that much. _I'll have to ask the grocer about decent tea. This really is loathsome. _He added some sugar and milk. _That's a bit better. Still. If I'm not drinking any more I can afford some of the good stuff._

Ron took his cup into the living room and settled himself in his chair, picked up a copy of _Which Broom_ and began to read. When Ron was halfway through the second article, Pig returned. Fred had scrawled a reply on the bottom of his note. _Bring it by tomorrow – F & G._

_Bugger. Tomorrow's Saturday,_ Ron thought suddenly. _I don't know if Dad will be in his office._ He went to get Pig a treat, then sat at his desk. _I'd best send him a note asking. _

MW – MW – MW

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise when he detached the note from Pigwigeon's leg. "Molly," he said, "find Pig a treat, please."

"What is it, Arthur?"

"Half a mo, Molly, I'll show you." Arthur found a piece of parchment, wrote briefly, then folded it and tied it to Pig. "Take this to Ron, Pig. Thank you."

Silently, he handed Molly Ron's note. It was addressed formally: _Arthur, Lord Weasley, Deputy Minister for Magic, UK _in unusually clear penmanship. The note on the other side was brief and uninformative: _Sir, I need to discuss something with you in your office. Will you be available tomorrow? If not, please let me know when you can see me. RBW._

"Arthur?"

"Let's go upstairs, Molly."

_God, _Molly thought, _whatever is happening, it's not good. _She led Arthur up to their bedroom and watched him shutter and seal the windows and door. _Christ, he hasn't done that since …_her mind shied away from that thought.

_"Muffliato," _ Arthur said quietly.

"Arthur. You're frightening me."

Arthur sighed, collecting his thoughts. "Ron's done it this time, Molly," he said softly. "Dan Granger came home early Wednesday. He found Hermione in her room, crying. I don't know what Ron said or did, but it was the final straw for him.

"I have extended House Weasley's apology to House Granger for Ron, with the assurance that it won't happen again."

Molly went pale. "What happened, Arthur? How could a muggle dentist …" she paused. "Did Hermione do that to Ron?"

"No. I doubt she's aware of it."

"Then how…"

Arthur sighed. _This is where it gets tricky. And ugly._ "I can't tell you all of it, Molly. But it's … it goes back to … it's tied in with what I used to do. Before Charlie was born." He paused. "Molly, you can't tell anyone, anyone at all."

Molly nodded. She'd recovered some of her colour. "Dan's not just a dentist, then?" She held up her hand. "No. I know you can't answer that. I shouldn't have asked." She paused again. "What will happen with Ron?"

"I don't know, Molly. But Ma …Dan told me what he'd told Ron. If Ron upsets Hermione like that again, he'll probably kill Ron. God knows I'd do the same if it were Ginny.

"Don't ask Ron about it, Molly. He had to sign the Official Secrets Act over this. He'll tell you what he can. If he decides to; I don't know if he will. I did … I ordered him to apologise to you. When he figures out how to, he will.

"Keep the rest of the children off Ron's back, as much as you can." Arthur paused. "I don't think you'll have to worry about the twins. They said their piece in my office, after you left." Arthur snickered. "Ginny will probably hex him. I don't know about the other three."

"He'll have to deal with them, Arthur. And anyone else, because God knows they'll be asking him." She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "Should I go see Hermione?"

"Why don't you two meet for tea next week? That'll give it some time to blow over." Arthur sighed again. "I don't know if she'll even want to see a Weasley again."

Molly nodded. "Possibly not, although she and Ginny are pretty tight. Put your robes back on, Arthur. You're taking me out to supper."

"After today, dear?" Arthur asked.

"Particularly after today, Arthur. Think about it. We'll be expected to hole up. Well, they can take that and shove it. I'll be damned if I'm going to be driven out by Ronald's problems."

Arthur seldom saw Molly in this sort of mood. _I guess I'll sit back and watch the blood drip onto the floor, _he thought. _Someone, tonight, may discover what happens when one crosses wands with a Prewitt. _He shaved quickly then changed into fresh clothing and just because he could, put on a Gryffindor tie, snugging it up to his collar with a neatly tied Windsor knot. _Just to brass off a few people,_ he thought. _Why not?_

MW – MW – MW

The owner of Ristorante Salerno greeted Molly and Arthur when they entered. "Mrs. Weasley. So good to see you and the Minister again."

"Arthur's tired of my cooking, Vincenzo. So I told him he could take me out to eat." Molly smiled. "So here we are, and we're famished."

Vincenzo Zabini was no fool. The few times a year the Weasleys came to his restaurant they were usually dressed fairly simply. Tonight, they were one step short of formal dress. He'd heard about the debacle in front of Gringotts and realized a statement was being made, albeit very quietly. He nodded. Molly had declared war, he decided. He leaned a bit toward Molly and said very quietly "I think, tonight, not your usual table, signora."

Vincenzo seated the Weasleys at a table just off the centre of the dining room. "I will bring an _aperitivo_," he said. Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Vincenzo."

Zabini stepped behind the bar and began to mix two cocktails. Minutes later, he took them to the table. Molly quirked an eyebrow at Vincenzo. "Your especial cocktail, signora," Zabini said in a voice just loud enough to be overheard two tables away.

Molly took a sip and smiled. "Wonderful, just as always, Vincenzo."

"Thank you, signora." Zabini winked at Molly.

Arthur sipped his own cocktail. "Thank you, Vincenzo. It's just what I needed."

Zabini nodded. "Minister."

Arthur relaxed a bit in his chair. He wasn't quite certain of what was going on, but two things were sure, knives were being slid into backs tonight and Vincenzo Zabini was on his side. That surprised him, he'd expected Molly to be the one doing the stabbing. He raised his glass in a silent salute to Molly. She smiled at him.

Just as they were finishing their cocktails, the antipasti arrived, served by Zabini. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Zabini's eyelid dropped briefly as he smiled. _Vincenzo is driving home his point with a mallet, _Arthur thought. Their main course was served by the chef. _A huge mallet, _Arthur revised his previous thought. _Vincenzo's chef never leaves his kitchen._

As the waiter was clearing away their dessert dishes, Zabini and his chef arrived at the table with a bottle of Italian brandy and four snifters. By now, Arthur wasn't surprised by anything. He thanked them, pitching his voice just loud enough to be heard by other tables. "Vincenzo, chef, thank you for the most wonderful meal we've ever had."

Vincenzo smiled and nodded. Then the chef spoke up. "Minister, it is a honour to cook for you and your lovely wife. Her reputation in the kitchen is well-known."

"Chef, believe me, the pleasure was all ours," Molly murmured. "I can't match your tiramisu, Vincenzo, but if you'd allow me, I'll send you a couple of cakes for your staff to share in appreciation of this lovely meal."

We'd be honoured, signora," Zabini replied. His chef nodded in agreement. "If I may, would you make us your chocolate cake?"

Molly nodded. "Certainly, if that's what you wish."

Zabini leaned forward and said quietly "On a less palatable note, Minister, signora. My maître d'hôtel has informed me that he has stopped the press from invading us."

Arthur's face clouded with anger.

"If I may, a photograph of us, then a few words in the foyer may suffice, Minister. I can have them thrown out, but I can't make them go away."

"Arthur. It's a good idea," Molly said quietly.

Arthur nodded. "I'd the insane hope of a quiet evening with my wife. You're correct, Vincenzo. Let's get it over with." He paused. "Vincenzo, thank you. I don't like being ambushed, particularly by _The Prophet_."

When they reached the foyer, Arthur raised his hand peremptorily. "Let's keep this fairly quiet, you've no reason to disturb Mr. Zabini's other patrons." He looked at Rita Skeeter. "Put that damned QuikQuotes quill away, Ms. Skeeter. You'll quote me properly and accurately or not at all. Without your usual embellishments."

Skeeter grumbled, but took out a DictaQuill. "Okay," she said. "This afternoon your son Ronald appeared naked, chained to a chair, in front of Gringotts. Comment?"

"I've been made aware of the incident. I wasn't amongst those present at Gringotts. You'll have to ask my son about the reasons behind it, it's his story, not mine. Next question."

"Will he be arrested, Minister?"

"Ask Director Shacklebolt. He was present shortly after my son's appearance."

"And the actions of your other sons?"

"As far as I'm aware, neither Frederick nor George violated the law. If you want their comments, ask them. Any more questions?"

"Your sons left a sign in their shop window stating they'd been called to the Ministry for consultation. Are they regular Ministry consultants?"

"My sons have developed several products used by the Auror force. You'll have to ask them or Director Shacklebolt how frequently they're consulted by his office. And for the record, DMLE was using their products prior to the change in administration. They weren't brought in as consultants at my behest, I believe Minister Bones did that when she was director of DMLE."

"Why did you decide to eat here tonight?"

Molly nudged Arthur aside gently. "Ristorante Salerno is our favourite restaurant, Ms. Skeeter. We've been eating here since my daughter recommended it to us. My husband brought me here for supper, which, I add, was excellent. Mr. Zabini and Chef Augusto run the finest Italian restaurant in Britain, in my opinion.

"Now, if you've no more questions for my husband, we're going home."

_To be continued_ — LWJ2


End file.
